Life, or Something Like it
by Toothache
Summary: [Charlie and the Chocolate Factory fict] Charlie is 16 and trying to find out the meaning of life. w.OC [my first fanfic]
1. Charlie

**A/N:** This story isa narrative told in parts by different people. Chapter one is told by one person, chapter two is told by another, chapter three is told by another, andchapter four is told by the person in chapter one, for example. Basically, the story is told in the perspectives of the characters. Enjoy!

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__Charlie_**

"AUGH!" I jumped up and tried to wipe the spaghetti off my shirt. What had I gotten myself into?

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry Charles!" the girl I was supposed to be having dinner with had her face in her hands and—I couldn't be sure because I still had a plateful of spaghetti on me—she was softly crying.

I stopped wiping off the pasta and I looked at her sternly. "First of all, I hate this restaurant and everything formal about it--" oh God, she looked like she was going to burst from shame "—second," and this was when I dramatically threw down my marinara-drenched napkin and said, "My name isn't _Charles_, it's _Charlie_!"

Yes, I walked out on the poor girl. I couldn't help it. She annoyed the hell out of me—I just _hate_ being called Charles; it makes me feel like a snob. I don't even remember how I met her. Oh wait, that's right; my best friend Mike set me up with her. Mike is cool and all, but he needs to stop watching those reality dating shows—The Bachelor, for example.

Oh, by the way, I'm Charlie Bucket. My life totally changed when I was just eleven years old.

See, there was this big shot Chocolate and Candy Corporation called Wonka Chocolates, only it was really top-secret and private. Five years ago, Willy Wonka—creator, founder, and president of the company—held a contest. Inside 5 Wonka bards, he hid gold tickets. These tickets entitle the owner to a tour of the super-restricted Wonka factory and a lifetime supply of chocolate.

If you'd believe it, I found one of those tickets, along with my now-best-friend Mike Teevee, Veruca Salt, Violet Beaureguarde and Augustus Gloop.

Anyway, we all went on the tour, but one by one we got eliminated until there was only one of us left. Again, if you'd believe it, I was the only one left, and ultimately, I was the only one getting the lifetime supply of chocolate. Why? Well, Mr. Wonka said he was looking for the most good-hearted child to look after his factory after he was gone.

Sure enough, only a month after riding this huge glass elevator thing (Mr. Wonka called it the "Wonkavator"), he fell ill and he couldn't leave his bed. Then one night, a loud racket was heard from his room—my Grandpa Joe heard it but he thought it was a dream so he went back to sleep—and the next morning, Mr. Wonka was dead.

I'm not sure how he died; some people think he was murdered in his sleep, but the weapon wasn't ever found. The doctors and the people who did an autopsy on his body said he had epilepsy and he killed himself by accident that night. Either way, I ended up inheriting the entire Wonka Empire.

Now, I don't know how I ended up from being a lowly kid, to a chocolate heir, to a teenager who can't get a girlfriend, but I really hope that Mike will stop setting me up with these snobby rich girls who call me 'Charles.'

By now, I had already gotten home, changed into one of my favourite t-shirts (which just happened to be really old and worn out), my favourite pair of jeans (which also happened to be old and worn out), and an oversized sweater I got when I was thirteen and I left the house and sat on the curb, looking up at the sky. This is always what I do whenever a setup with one of Mike's girls doesn't work out.

It was getting really dark; almost dark enough to see the stars, or airplanes, whichever one it might be. I was starting to think that I'll never be in a long-term relationship before I turn seventeen, when I see his girl, about my age, in a worn sundress, looking scared and cold.

I ran up to her. "Excuse me, but are you lost?" I said, taking off my sweater and putting it around her shoulders.

She blushed a little bit and looked down. "Um, yes." She said. Her voice was soft, almost a whisper, but it held this sweet tone that made me want to hear her more. "I think I'm lost… I can't seem to find my home." She told me that she and her family had just moved into a small place that had been abandoned for a really long time. When she left school, she went on a small walk, but ended up getting lost.

"Okay," I said, thinking out loud, "do you remember what your house looks like?" I asked.

"Well," she said with a thoughtful look on her face, "our house is really small… and my father said nobody's lived in it for five years. It's near this small river or stream, and there's this lady next door who always baked fresh banana bread this morning and she gave a slice to me."

We were both sitting on the curb, trying to figure out where this girl lived, when something hit me. Literally. I turned around and I saw Mike with his slingshot and a small pouch of walnuts. "Mike, you ass!" I shouted. "What do you want!" but he just ran away laughing.

_That was weird._ I thought. _Right now, Mike should be at home watching _Friends I brushed the thought off quickly enough to hear the girl talk about a woman who makes banana bread every morning. I turned to her and said, "Are you talking about Mrs. Windell?" I asked.

I saw her eyes brighten in the dark. "Yes, that's her name!" she said, "do you know her?" She seemed really hopeful that I could bring her back home.

"Yeah, I know her." I really did. "Do you want me to take you home now?" I didn't really want to see her go. I didn't know her all too well, but I knew I liked being in her company. I've never felt this way about any other girl before… well, none that Mike set me up with, anyway.

"Yes, please!" She eagerly said with a grin. "Thank you so much!" then she hugged me. We didn't know anything about each other—well, I knew where she lived, but that's about it—but somehow, we were close enough to hug. She made me feel good.

I got up and my hand reached out to help her up. On the way to her house, we pretty much kept to ourselves. We didn't say much either. When she finally arrived at her house, her father was waiting at the door, looking rather worried.

"Daddy!" the girl exclaimed as she ran to him. Then she turned back to look at me. "Thank you," she smiled at me, and guess what? She blew me a kiss. Sure, it was just a thank-you kiss, but a kiss nonetheless. I waved goodbye, and I stood outside even after the door closed.

I walked back to my house. I was cold—I had forgotten to get my sweater back—but I was content. I knew where she lived. In fact, where she lived was where I used to live. _Coincidence?_ I smiled at the thought. _I think not._ Then I stopped. _Was this girl poor like I was?_ I shrugged the thought off. I couldn't wait to see her again. Maybe next time I'll catch her name.


	2. Mike

**A/N:** By the way, I _had_ to kill Willy Wonka; something coming later in the story. And Mike is back to normal, only he grew taller because he's older, but you get the idea. I'll gradually bring back the old characters somehow (except some of the people I had to kill off and some of the ones that don't have any significance in my story whatsoever, haha).

Oh, and because I didn't do a disclaimer thing in the first chapter, here is: I DON'T OWN ANY OF THE CHARACTERS OF CHARLIE AND THE CHOCOLATE FACTORY! I have one original character here though. Stay tuned & enjoy! )

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_**Mike**_

Greaaat… I missed an episode of the Bachelor last night. And it was all for nothing too. My head hurts a lot. I can't remember much; just small specks of memories of Charlie with red all over his shirt and pants. Didn't I set him up with someone? Yeahh, that rich girl from years ago. What was her name again? Oh, right, Veruca Salt.

She seemed to have changed a lot since we last saw her; rich, snobby, pig-faced, mink-covered and mean. Now, she's still rich, a bit less snobby, still pig-faced, her mink seems to have died down, and she's… nice. Well, not too nice, but nice enough to be called an improvement.

Veruca now lives right across the street from me. Her family moved here two years ago and now she's starting to remember me. Last week, she asked me out on a date. Needless to say it didn't work out. It seems that going to a carnival in stilettos, coupled with consuming way too much candy floss before a roller coaster ride, doesn't really add up to a very good date night.

This girl hinted that she was desperate for a boyfriend, so I set her up with the next best thing; Charlie! I wasn't there for all of the spaghetti fiasco because I knew Charlie would come after me, so I headed home and found my mom's stash of vodka. That's probably how I got this hangover.

Anyway, Veruca called me. She told me that she had been trying to call Charlie to apologize, and maybe ask for another date. I was only half-drunk at this time, so I thought I should go looking for Charlie and ask him to reconsider Veruca. I don't know why, but I brought my slingshot and a bag of walnuts too. I probably thought it was funny at the time because I saw it on Dennis the Menace.

Before I knew it I was running out of my house, singing the Friends theme song at the top of my lungs. _It seems as though I will have to miss an episode of that too, even if it is just a re-run. _I thought to myself while gulping down some more vodka. (I don't know why I drink this stuff; it tastes horrible, but it makes me feel better.)

Imagine my drunken surprise when I see Charlie sitting on the curb with another girl wearing his sweater. My mind was probably clouded by alcohol, but I was still pretty angry. How would you feel when you tried your best to set your best friend with a girl, and he goes out on his own to find a girl he likes without even saying 'thank-you' or 'nice try, mate'? Well, I felt a bit used.

I still don't know what possessed me to do it—perhaps it was the vodka—but I look up my slingshot, stuck a walnut in it, and aimed truly to the back of Charlie's head. I distinctly heard him call me an ass, but I didn't care. I missed two of my favourite shows tonight AND I tried making him happy, but no. It's just not enough.

I laughed at him loudly and leapt over to Veruca's house. She probably knows what it feels like to feel used.


End file.
